Rez Ball

“‘Shit, we been the same squad since we started hooping together in sixth grade. Only one we’re missing is Jaxon.’ He looks at me. ‘And I’m sorry, but you’re no Jaxon.’”

In this moment of confrontation, Mason establishes the central conflict for Tre while verbalizing The Burden of Family Legacy as a theme. Instead of recognizing Tre’s merits, Mason’s direct, dismissive statement reduces Tre to an unwelcome replacement, defining him by his failure to live up to the standard of his deceased brother. This statement depicts the team’s grief as a barrier to Tre’s acceptance and highlights the immense pressure on him to fill the shoes of someone they revered and consider irreplaceable.

“‘Don’t lie to me. I know how you Red Lakers are.’”

During a traffic stop, a white police officer’s words encapsulate the systemic racism and prejudice the characters face outside their reservation. The officer’s generalizing statement, which stereotypes an entire community, is an overt example of racial profiling. This moment illustrates how the world beyond the reservation perceives the characters’ identities, reinforcing the theme of Resisting Oppression Through Community Bonds and Pride by contrasting their on-court battles with their off-court struggles.

“Even with as many family photos as we have framed around the house, it feels like at least half of them are of my brother. It’s like a never-ending memorial. You can’t go anywhere in our house without a basketball photo of Jaxon.”

This internal monologue reveals the psychological weight of Jaxon’s memory on Tre and his family, thematically connecting to The Process of Grieving and Healing Through Connection. The imagery of the house as a “never-ending memorial” shows how grief is a constant, physical presence in their lives. Tre’s perception that he can’t escape Jaxon’s image underscores his feeling of being overshadowed and his struggle to find his own identity within the family’s unresolved sorrow.

“‘That’s where my big brother crashed and died. […] The cops said he must have been driving a little too fast, hit this curve wrong, slid off the road…’”

While driving, Khiana and Tre confront the physical site of his brother’s death, and he verbalizes the tragedy. His recounting of the event in a stark, factual tone demonstrates his emotional difficulty in processing the loss. This moment of vulnerability marks a significant step in Tre’s arc, illustrating his process of grieving and showing that sharing pain and forming new connections can help one begin to heal.

“Still remember looking forward to seeing what you and your brother would come up with for Halloween costumes […] Was perfect. Jaxon was so much taller than you back then—it made your outfits even more spot-on.”

Speaking to Tre and his parents, Uncle Liver unintentionally triggers the family’s grief by invoking a seemingly happy memory. The dialogue thematically illuminates how loss permeates everyday conversations and turns nostalgia into a source of pain. The specific comparison of the brothers’ heights establishes the physical and symbolic shadow that Jaxon casts over Tre, a central element of his internal conflict.

“Like this whole past year, everywhere I go, everyone I talk to, it’s always the same. […] But with you, it’s different. I can breathe. And just be me. Not the sad me. Not the kid who lost his brother. But who I am. Right now. Who I might be tomorrow.”

Tre confides in Khiana about the social burden of his grief. This quote provides characterization, defining Tre’s primary struggle as an inability to escape the identity imposed on him by his brother’s death. The metaphor “I can breathe” conveys the sense of relief and freedom he feels in Khiana’s presence, establishing their relationship as a crucial space for healing because she isn’t part of those social pressures.

“‘Shot then, bro?’ He pulls a flask out from his inner pocket.”

At the school dance, varsity player Dallas offers Tre a drink from his flask. This moment introduces the recurring motif of drinking and partying as a form of team bonding and a test of belonging within the varsity social hierarchy. Tre’s decision to accept the drink, despite the risks, signals his desire for acceptance from the older players and foreshadows future conflicts involving the team’s partying.

“‘You’re my son. You were born with my skills. Just like Jaxon was.’ […] It’s like he thinks he’s Odin, Jaxon was Thor, and we live on Asgard. Guess that would make me Loki.”

After Tre’s strong first day of tryouts, his father attempts to reassure him by comparing him to Jaxon. Tre’s subsequent internal monologue uses a mythological allusion to frame his family dynamic, casting himself as the lesser, trickster figure in a heroic lineage. This allusion thematically illustrates The Burden of Family Legacy by revealing Tre’s feeling of inadequacy and his struggle to live up to his father’s and brother’s legendary status.

“‘Tre, don’t get all sad about getting cut from varsity. Just go out there and have fun playing JV, study hard, enjoy basketball the way you used to enjoy video games. And maybe start thinking about a path other than basketball for yourself after high school.’”

After Tre fails to make the varsity team, his father’s attempt at consolation centers on encouraging his son to dismiss his basketball ambitions. His words highlight his inability to see Tre’s potential as separate from Jaxon’s established success, marking a low point in Tre’s relationship with his father. The advice to find a “path other than basketball” underscores the immense pressure Tre feels and deepens his motivation to prove his worth, a struggle central to his character arc.

“When you wear that Warriors jersey, you represent me, you represent your school, you represent your family, but most importantly, you represent your people. If you can’t handle that, then go on home.”

In his first address to the team, Coach Whitefeather establishes that basketball is more than a game; it’s an act of communal representation. The escalating rhetorical structure, moving from coach to school to family and culminating in “your people,” frames the sport as a vehicle for collective identity and pride. This speech articulates the theme of Resisting Oppression Through Community Bonds and Pride, defining the stakes of every game as a reflection on the Red Lake Nation itself.

“Never stop trying to get

Better than before

Smarter than yesterday

Stronger than you ever thought you could be

J.B.”

This Post-it note, a physical remnant of Jaxon that Tre finds in his brother’s old locker, is a personal message from the past that transcends public memory. The short, instructive lines express Jaxon’s personal mantra, humanizing the legendary brother and reframing his success as a product of relentless self-improvement rather than innate talent. For Tre, this discovery offers a tangible connection to his brother’s private mindset, providing a blueprint for how to navigate his legacy.

“[C]an you imagine how good it would feel to finally beat Bemidji? To be the first rez team to ever give the pretty white boys an L. Be historic.”

Kevin’s dialogue explicitly frames the rivalry with Bemidji within a racial and historical context, elevating the game beyond an athletic contest. The colloquial phrase “give the pretty white boys an L” (a loss) highlights a power dynamic rooted in systemic inequality, wherein a basketball victory becomes a symbolic act of resistance. This statement encapsulates the idea that winning isn’t just about a single game; it’s about achieving a “historic” milestone that helps strengthen bonds and provides a source of pride throughout the reservation community.

“Dad comes back holding the LeBron shoes that my brother got for Christmas last year. […] ‘You guys wear the same size now. Thirteen,’ Dad says. […] ‘Wear them next game. See what happens. Bring a little part of him with you.’”

This moment transforms Jaxon’s basketball shoes from a memory into a symbol of inherited legacy. In passing Jaxon’s shoes on to Tre, his father suggests that Tre can honor his brother by carrying his memory forward rather than by replacing him. Ed’s instruction to “bring a little part of him with you” proposes that legacy can be a source of strength rather than a weight and illustrates how embracing it can help one through grief and healing.

“‘Tre, you’re like a clone of your brother. You have the same moves he had. You shoot the ball the exact same. But he was cold-blooded. Ice in his veins. Fearless. […] Take over this game like Jaxon would have.’”

Coach Whitefeather’s halftime speech provides the psychological catalyst for Tre’s transformation. The comparison uses a simile (“like a clone”) to acknowledge the external pressures on Tre while acknowledging his skill, but then pivots to focus on Jaxon’s internal mindset: “fearless.” The imperative to “take over this game like Jaxon” instructs Tre to adopt the confidence that defined his brother, encouraging Tre to reinterpret his family’s legacy.

“‘Tre ain’t going to the fucking league, you dumbass. No one from our rez ever goes anywhere or does anything. […] When we’re done playing, we go to work at the casino, or slang weed, or end up alcoholics, hooked on drugs, or dead. But none of us go the fucking league. Ain’t that right, Tre?’”

On the team bus, Mason responds to talk of Tre’s future success with a cynical monologue that provides a harsh dose of social realism. Mason’s character is a foil to Tre’s, embodying the fatalism bred by systemic disadvantages on the reservation and reflecting the lack of opportunity stemming from systemic racism beyond the reservation. Mason’s speech articulates the immense external and internal pressures that challenge Tre’s ambition, thematically underscoring the importance of Resisting Oppression Through Community Bonds and Pride.

“‘I know you know the story of your dad’s team. […] I remember how heartbroken those players were for the rest of that school year. Hell, some of them are still heartbroken about it. Not living up to your potential is haunting. So…let’s forget last night happened.’”

In his office, the athletic director offers Tre a deal to avoid suspension by invoking the story of Tre’s father’s team. This moment connects Tre’s personal struggles to a larger, intergenerational community narrative, thematically referencing The Burden of Family Legacy. The word “haunting” conveys the psychological weight of past failures and elevates the stakes of the current season beyond a simple championship.

“‘I was blown away by the footage your friend sent from his documentary.’ ‘My friend?’ ‘Wes Stately. He emailed our office with a short trailer of his documentary and a very enthusiastic message about why we should feature you.’”

During her interview with Tre, journalist Blair Howe reveals that Wes was responsible for the Slam magazine opportunity. This revelation, which uses situational irony to force Tre to confront his guilt and pride, is a turning point in the plot. In addition, the exchange highlights the role of Wes’s documentary as a motif, demonstrating its power to actively shape and legitimize Tre’s story for an audience beyond the reservation.

“‘Don’t worry about hanging another banner. Matter of fact, don’t worry about trying to match me or your brother. I’m grateful for what you already gave me, your family, your school, your team, and the whole rez this season. It was exciting. It was fun. It was…healing.’”

During an early morning practice, Tre’s father absolves him of the pressure to live up to his and Jaxon’s legacies. This dialogue marks a climactic resolution for Tre’s internal conflict and a crucial development in his relationship with his father. By reframing basketball’s purpose from winning to “healing,” the novel thematically advances The Process of Grieving and Healing Through Connection.

“‘We’ve been losing to the white man for five hundred years. The battles, the stolen land, the broken treaties, the way their cops hunt us down. We can finally have a victory. One they’ll never be able to take away from us. And the kids here will know that anything is possible.’”

After the team’s first playoff win, Dallas voices the stakes of their championship run. This monologue articulates the theme of Resisting Oppression Through Community Bonds and Pride by contextualizing the game within a long history of colonial oppression. Dallas’s speech elevates the on-court conflict to a symbolic struggle for cultural sovereignty and hope for future generations.

“‘I don’t want to tell almost stories when I’m old. And I know you guys don’t either. […] I know how much it hurt last season when you guys almost beat Bemidji and almost went to state. I know you were playing for more than yourselves, for more than the rez; you were playing that game for my brother, for Jaxon.’

In a speech asking his teammates to commit to sobriety, Tre frames their playoff run as a collective responsibility to the community and to the past. The repetition of “almost” emphasizes a cycle of historical disappointment that Tre is determined to break, reflecting his maturation into a leadership role. By invoking Jaxon’s memory, he unifies the team under a shared purpose, thematically connecting The Burden of Family Legacy and Resisting Oppression Through Community Bonds and Pride.

“Afterward, other Supermen showed up and tried to take his place. My favorite was Superboy, a clone of Superman. He wasn’t full grown or quite as strong. But damn, he wanted like hell to fill those shoes—er, boots.”

In his deceased brother’s bedroom, Tre reflects on a comic book storyline, creating a metaphor for his own situation. The allusion to Superman and Superboy establishes Jaxon as an invincible, mythic figure and casts Tre as the successor struggling to live up to an impossible standard. This internal monologue crystallizes the novel’s exploration of family legacy, as Tre feels the weight of his desire to fill Jaxon’s “boots” (rather than the burden of others imposing the expectation on him) while also finding inspiration in the archetype of the hero-in-training.

“We are playing white-boy basketball right now, and they are better at it than us. If it’s cool with you, Coach, can we go out there and play rez ball like we would back home?”

At halftime during the regional championship, Tre identifies the core strategic problem and proposes a solution rooted in cultural identity. The quote establishes a clear dichotomy between the structured play style of their opponents and the fluid, improvisational rez ball style that is authentic to his team. This pivotal moment illuminates the rez ball motif as a form of resistance, arguing that the team finds strength through embracing their unique cultural expression rather than conforming to an opponent’s system.

“Well, now I’m telling you to do the opposite: look into the stands. […] Look at your parents, your grandparents, your teachers, your classmates, your friends, our Elders, our community. They’re here to cheer you on, to show you love. We aren’t separate—we’re all connected. We are a tribe. You are them, and they are you.”

During a timeout in the state tournament, Coach Whitefeather reframes the game’s pressure by reminding the players of their connection to the community. The speech elevates the contest to a collective cultural event, reinforcing the theme of Resisting Oppression Through Community Bonds and Pride. By using the word “tribe” and the parallel structure of “you are them, and they are you,” the coach defines their on-court struggle as an extension of their shared identity.